Hannah Arendt considered calling her magnum opus Amor Mundi: Love of the World. Instead, she settled upon The Human Condition. What is most difficult, Arendt writes, is to love the world as it is, with all the evil and suffering in it. And yet she came to do just that. Loving the world means neither uncritical acceptance nor contemptuous rejection. Above all it means the unwavering facing up to and comprehension of that which is.
Every Sunday, The Hannah Arendt Center Amor Mundi Weekly Newsletter will offer our favorite essays and blog posts from around the web. These essays will help you comprehend the world. And learn to love it.
Raymond Geuss looks back at the 1970s, when he was writing The Idea of a Critical Theory, and sees now what he could not see then: the world he was writing about was ending. As far as what was 'really' happening is concerned, we can now see that the period of unprecedented economic growth and political and social progress which took place in the West after the end of World War II began to plateau in the 1970s when productivity began to stagnate. By the early 1970s, though, the assumption that economic growth would continue, levels of prosperity continue to rise, and the social and political structures continue to evolve in the direction of greater flexibility, realism and humanity had become very firmly entrenched in Western populations.The period during which anything like that assumption was at all reasonable was ending just as I was beginning work on my book, although I, of course, did not know that at the time, any more than anyone else did. It would have been political suicide for any major figure in the West to face up to this situation courageously and to try to make clear to the population that the possibilities of relatively easy real growth were exhausted, that the era of ever-increasing prosperity was gone for good; this would have raised intolerable questions about the very foundations of the existing socioeconomic and political order." Geuss raises serious questions about the poverty of our political and philosophical thinking and its inability to address the reality of our situation. He worries that by seeking to justify and legitimate power, political thinking has turned away from the more important question of justice. You can read more about Geuss' essay in the Weekend Read on the Hannah Arendt Center Blog.
In the wake of the controversial shooting of Michael Brown, an unarmed black teenager, protests and riots have been met by a heavily militarized police presence. The over-militarization of local police departments has been a theme for 30 years, but people are starting to pay attention. In the New York Times, Julie Bosman and Matt Apuzzo have a long article explaining how, for example, a suburban St. Louis district won a $360,000 U.S. government grant to purchase a heavily armored vehicle that was part of the militarized response to the protests: "For four nights in a row, they streamed onto West Florissant Avenue wearing camouflage, black helmets and vests with 'POLICE' stamped on the back. They carried objects that doubled as warnings: assault rifles and ammunition, slender black nightsticks and gas masks. They were not just one police force but many, hailing from communities throughout north St. Louis County and loosely coordinated by the county police. Their adversaries were a ragtag group of mostly unarmed neighborhood residents, hundreds of African-Americans whose pent-up fury at the police had sent them pouring onto streets and sidewalks in Ferguson, demanding justice for Michael Brown, the 18-year-old who was fatally shot by a police officer on Saturday. When the protesters refused to retreat from the streets, threw firebombs or walked too close to a police officer, the response was swift and unrelenting: tear gas and rubber bullets."
Radley Balko's book, "Rise of the Warrior Cop: The Militarization of America's Police Forces," offers a detailed account of the way government programs have encouraged the development of heavily armed police forces and also the way SWAT teams are deployed for even routine police actions. In an excerpt on Copblock, Balko writes, "Police militarization would accelerate in the 2000s. The first half of the decade brought a new and lucrative source of funding and equipment: homeland security. In response to the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, on the World Trade Center in New York City and the Pentagon in Washington, the federal government opened a new spigot of funding in the name of fighting terror. Terrorism would also provide new excuses for police agencies across the country to build up their arsenals and for yet smaller towns to start up yet more SWAT teams. The second half of the decade also saw more mission creep for SWAT teams and more pronounced militarization even outside of drug policing. The 1990s trend of government officials using paramilitary tactics and heavy-handed force to make political statements or to make an example of certain classes of nonviolent offenders would continue, especially in response to political protests. The battle gear and aggressive policing would also start to move into more mundane crimes-SWAT teams have recently been used even for regulatory inspections."
In a review of a new collection essays, The Essential Ellen Willis, Hermione Hoby considers how Willis writes with a raw honesty that is bracing as it is compelling: "Throughout the fifty-one essays collected here, Willis writes as an interrogator, both of her world and of herself. As a self-identified optimist ('an attitude that seems to me as spiritually necessary and proper as it is intellectually suspect'), she is more interested in examining the way things might be than pronouncing on the way things are: an inquiry which, in accordance with her own convictions, nearly always entails a personal dimension. One of this book's rawest pieces is 'Next Year in Jerusalem' (1977), in which she follows her brother, Mike, to Israel where he is undergoing a conversion to Orthodox Judaism. This prompts a spiritual crisis of her own, not of loss of faith, but of a loss of faith in her faithlessness. She spirals into a slough of confusion and depression regarding her spiritual and political convictions. The rabbi's wife seems to deliver Willis the 'cosmic mockery' of her predicament: 'The big lie of male supremacy is that women are less than fully human; the basic task of feminism is to expose that lie and fight it on every level. Yet for all my feminist militance I was, it seemed, secretly afraid that the lie was true - that my humanity was hopelessly at odds with my ineluctable female sexuality - while the rebbetzin, staunch apostle of traditional femininity, did not appear to doubt for a moment that she could be both a woman and a serious person.'"
In a short but sweet profile of the prominent classicist Mary Beard, Annalisa Quinn considers why Beard thinks that studying the classics remains important, even after two plus millennia of such scholarship: "'You do the ancient world much greater service if you keep arguing with them,' she says, gesticulating without bothering to put down her latte, which dipped dangerously...In the book, she writes that the way we read the subject 'says as much about us as it does about them.' I asked her what she meant. 'We raid them,' she says, simply. 'We have to ventriloquize the ancient world.' For example, scholarship on women in the ancient world has grown in the last few decades, Beard says, as a 'result of the feminist movements of the '70s and '80s. When I was an undergraduate, people didn't really talk about women in antiquity,' she says. But 'now, when we talk about Euripides, we talk about his female characters.' If the study of classics, then, can be a mirror of contemporary concerns, it also means scholars are never done."
Nothing can liven up the dog days of August like a feel-good story from the Little League World Series. Mo'ne Davis, a 13-year-old girl from Pennsylvania, is only the 18th girl to play in the Little League championship. She is now the first to throw a complete game shutout, completely dominating her male peers. She entered her latest game with huge expectations. "Could she live up to the hype? Yes. Davis pitched six innings, gave up a pair infield hits and struck out eight in a 4-0 victory over Nashville. By the end of fifth inning, with her Tennessee counterpart at the 85-pitch limit, Davis had thrown just 44. With each out in the final inning, the cheers became louder, and when Davis struck out the final batter, becoming the first girl in Little League World Series history to earn a win, the crowd exploded. Her parents hugged and then accepted the congratulations of strangers. Their modest 13-year-old girl had become an inspiration virtually overnight.... After Friday's game, Pennsylvania Manager Alex Rice put Davis's performance in perfect perspective, saying, 'It was the Mo show out there.'"
From this week's dive into the New Yorker archives, we bring you the first part of Peter Matthiessen's essay "The Snow Leopard," the naturalist's trek into the Himalayas to try to catch a peak of the rare big cat.
Details soon to follow.
Wednesday, September 17h, 2014
The Hannah Arendt Center, 12:30 pm
Resolved: "The fate of the world depends upon the success or failure of America's model of democratic self-government."
Tuesday, October 7th, 2014
Campus Center Multipurpose Room, 7:00 pm - 9:00 pm
The Hannah Arendt Center's annual fall conference, The Unmaking of Americans: Are There Still American Values Worth Fighting For?, will be held this year on October 9-10!
Registration is now OPEN! You can register here!
Want to know more about the schedule of the conference? Please click for details here!
Learn more about the conference here.
This week on the Blog, Ian Storey discusses Isaiah Berlin and the need to understand others in politics in the Quote of the Week. Marcus Aurelius provides this week's Thoughts on Thinking. We look back on a public conversation on the nature of thinking between Roger Berkowitz and Bill T. Jones in our Video Archives. And Roger Berkowitz explores an essay by Raymond Guess on the weakness of contemporary thinking in the Weekend Read.
Wednesday, December 1st, 2010: A Public Conversation - “The Life of the Mind and Floating the Tongue”
- Bill T. Jones -- Co-founder of the Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane Dance Company.
- Roger Berkowitz -- Associate Professor of Political Studies and Human Rights at Bard College; Academic Director, Hannah Arendt Center for Politics and the Humanities
In a conversation following a performance of his movement art piece “Floating the Tongue” (performed by Bard faculty member and Member of the Bill T. Jones/Anie Zane Dance Company Leah Cox), Bill T. Jones sat down with Roger Berkowitz to discuss the Arendtian notion of thinking that he explores in his dance.
The New York Times tells the story of Benjamin Goering. Goering is 22. Until recently he studied computer science and philosophy at the University of Kansas. He felt “frustrated in crowded lecture halls where the professors did not even know his name.” So Goering dropped out of college and went to San Francisco, where he got a job as a software engineer.
I applaud Goering for making a risky decision. College was not for him. This does not mean he wasn’t smart or couldn’t cut it. He clearly has talent and it was being wasted in courses he was not interested in that were costing him and his family many tens of thousands of dollars every year. In leaving, Goering made the right decision for him. Indeed, many more college students should make the same decision he did. There are huge numbers of talented people who are simply not intellectuals and don’t enjoy or get much out of college. This is not destiny. A great or good teacher might perk them up. But largely it is a waste of their time and money for them to struggle through (or sleep through) classes that bore them. If anything, the forced march through Shakespeare and Plato make these students less engaged, cynical, and self-centered as they turn from common sense to the internal pursuit of self interest in partying and life in private.
The story should raise the big question that everyone tiptoes around in this current debate about college: Who should go to college?
The obvious answer is those who want to and those who care about ideas. Those who see that in thinking and reading and talking about justice, democracy, the scientific method, and perspective, we are talking about what it means to live in a large, democratic, bureaucratic country at a time of transition from an industrial to a information-age economy. College, in other words, is for those people who want to think about their world. It is for people who are willing and eager to turn to the great thinkers who came before them and, also, the innovative scientists and artists who have revealed hidden secrets about the natural and the human worlds. It is, in other words, for intellectuals. And this of course raises the “E” question: the question of elitism.
It is folly to think that everyone is or should be interested in such an endeavor. In no society in history have intellectuals been anything but a small minority of the population. This is not a question of privilege. There is no reason to think that those who love ideas are better or more qualified than those who work the earth, build machines, or engineer websites. It may very well be otherwise.
Hannah Arendt was clear that intellectuals had no privileged position in politics. On the contrary, she worried that the rise of intellectuals in politics was specifically dangerous. Intellectuals, insofar as they could get lost in and captivated by ideas, are prone to lose sight of reality in the pursuit of grand schemes. And intellectuals, captivated by the power of reason, are susceptible to rationalizations that excuse wrongs like torture or suicide bombing as means necessary for greater goods. The increasing dominance of intellectuals in politics, Arendt argued, is one of the great dangers facing modern society. She thus welcomed the grand tradition of the American yeoman farmer and affirmed that there is no need to go to college to be an engaged citizen or a profound thinker. The last of our Presidents who did not attend college was Abraham Lincoln. He did just fine. It is simply ridiculous to argue that college is a necessary credential for statesmanship.
While intellectuals have no special claim to leadership or prominence, they are nevertheless important. Intellectuals—those who think— are those people in society who stand apart from the mainstream pressures of economy and influence and outside the political movements of advocacy and propaganda. In the Arendtian tradition, intellectuals are or can be conscious pariahs, those who look at their societies from the outside and thus gain a perspective from distance that allows them to understand and comprehend the society in ways that people deeply embedded within it cannot. Those who stand apart from society and think are important, first because they preserve and deepen the stories and tales we as a society tell about ourselves. In writing poetry, making art, building monuments, writing books, and giving speeches, intellectuals help lend meaning and gravity to the common sense we have of ourselves as a people.
One problem we have in the current debate is that College has morphed into an institution designed to do many (too many) things. On the one hand, college has historically been the place for the education of and formation of intellectuals. But for many decades if not many centuries, that focus has shifted. Today College is still a place for the life of the mind. But it is also a ticket into the middle or upper-middles classes and it is equally a job-training and job-certification program. Of course, it is also a consumer good that brands young people with a certain mystique and identity. For many localities colleges are, themselves, job creation machines, bringing with them all sorts of new businesses and throwing off patents and graduating students that reinvigorate local communities. The university is now a multiversity, to invoke Clark Kerr’s famous term. When we talk about college today, the debate is complicated by these multiple roles.
It is difficult to raise such issues today because they smack of elitism. Since college-educated people think they are superior to those without a fancy diploma, their egalitarianism then insists that everyone should have the same experience. We are not supposed to entertain the idea that some people may not want to go to college. Instead, we are told that if they had a better education, if they knew better, if they just were taught to understand, they would all want to sit in classrooms and read great books or do exciting experiments.
We are stuck today with what Hannah Arendt called, in a related context, the “democratic mentality of an egalitarian society that tends to deny the obvious inability and conspicuous lack of interest of large parts of the population in political matters as such.” In politics, Arendt argued that what was needed were public spaces from which a self-chose “élite could be selected, or rather, where it could select itself.” Similarly, in education today, colleges should be the spaces where those who want to select themselves as an educated élite might lose themselves in books and experiments and amongst paintings and symphonies. There is simply no reason to assume that most people in society need to or should be interested in such an endeavor.
One reason the question of elitism is so present in debates about college is the disgusting and degenerate state of American public high schools. If high schools provided a serious and meaningful civic education, if they taught not simply reading and writing and arithmetic, but history and art—and taught these well—we would not need to send students to remedial education in college where they could be taught these subjects a second time. While many academics wring their hands about making college available to all, they might do much better if they focused on high schools and grammar schools around the country. If we were to redistribute the billions of dollars we spend on remedial college education to serious reform efforts in high schools, that money would be very well spent.
To raise the question of elitism means neither that college should be open only to the rich and connected (on the contrary, it should be open to all who want it), nor that the educated elite is to be segregated from society and kept apart in an ivory tower. When one reads Shakespeare, studies DNA, or dances with Bill T. Jones, one is not simply learning for learning's sake. Few understood this better than John Finley, Greek Professor at Harvard, who wrote General Education in a Free Society in 1945. Finley had this to say about the purposes of a college education:
The heart of the problem of a general education is the continuance of the liberal and humane tradition. Neither the mere acquisition of information nor the development of special skills and talents can give the broad basis of understanding which is essential if our civilization is to be preserved…. Unless the educational process includes at each level of maturity some continuing contact with those fields in which value judgments are of prime importance, it must fall short of the ideal.
What college should offer—as should all education at every level except for the most specialized graduate schools—is the experience of thinking and coming to engage with the world in which one lives. College is, at its best, an eye opening experience, an opportunity for young people to learn the foundational texts and also be exposed to new cultures, new ideas, and new ways of thinking. The ideas of justice, truth, and beauty one learns are not valuable in themselves; they are meaningful only insofar as they impact and inform our daily lives. To read Plato’s Republic is to ask: what are the value of the ideas of good and the just? It is also to meditate on the role of music and art in society. And at the same time, it is to familiarize oneself with characters like Socrates and Plato who, in the world we share, epitomize the qualities of morality, heroism, and the pursuit of the truth wherever it might lead. This can also be done in high schools. And it should be.
It is simply wrong to think such inquiries are unworldly or overly intellectual. Good teachers teach great texts not simply because the books are old, but because they are meaningful. And young students return to these books generation after generation because they find in them stories, examples, and ideas that inspire them to live their lives better and more fully.
As Leon Botstein, President of Bard College where the Hannah Arendt Center is located, writes in his book Jefferson’s Children,
No matter how rigorous the curriculum, no matter how stringent the requirements, if what goes on in the classroom does not leave its mark in the way young adults voluntarily act in private and in public while they are in college, much less in the years after, then the college is not doing what it is supposed to do.
The basic question being asked today is: Is college worthwhile? It is a good question. Too many colleges have lost their way. They no longer even understand what they are here to offer. Faculty frequently put research above teaching. Administration is the fastest growing segment of university education, which is evidence if anything is that universities simply do not know what their mission is anymore. It is no wonder, then, that many of our brightest young people will begin to shy away from the thoughtless expectation that one must attend college.
All around us, people are opting out of college. The mania for online education is at least in part fueled by the hunger for knowledge from students and others who do not want or need to attend college. The Times highlights Uncollege and other organizations that advocate “hacking” your education. Recall that Lincoln was better schooled in the classics of poetry and politics than most every college educated President who followed him. At a time when many colleges are so confused and trying to do so many things, they often do none well. It may be the case today that we need to evolve new networks and new organizations where intellectualism can flourish. And it may be small liberal arts colleges that are more flexible and more able to make that transition than large, bureaucratic research institutions.
The real question this debate needs to raise, but avoids, is: Who should get a college education? The answer, “not everyone,” is one few want to hear. And yet it might be the beginning of a real conversation about what a college education is for and why we are today so often failing to provide it to our students.
On Dec. 1, 2010, director and choreographer BILL T. JONES and Hannah Arendt Center Academic Director Roger Berkowitz held a public conversation titled Thought and Action, including a performance of Mr. Jones' work, Floating the Tongue, by dancer and Education Director of Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane Dance Company, Leah Cox. The evening was sponsored by the Bard Dance Program.
As he told Roger Berkowitz in their conversation, Bill T. Jones has long been fascinated with the work of Hannah Arendt. Back in January, 2009, he cited Arendt's The Human Condition on his blog. In a post concerning the dangers that the exponential growth of technology poses for human freedom, he cited Arendt's warning that,
"While such possibility still may lie in a distant future, the first boomerang effects of science's great triumphs have made themselves felt in a crisis within the natural sciences themselves. The trouble concerns the fact that 'the truths' of the modern scientific world view, though they can be demonstrated in mathematical formulas and proved technologically, will not longer lend themselves to normal expression in speech and thoughts...We do not yet know whether this situation is final. But it could be that we, who are earth-bound creatures and have begun to act as though we were dwellers of the universe, will forever be unable to understand, that is, to think and speak about the things which nevertheless we are able to do. In this case, it would be as though our brain, which constitutes the physical material condition of our thoughts, were unable to follow what we do, so that from now on we would indeed need artificial machines to do our thinking and speaking. If it should turn out to be true that knowledge (in the modern sense of know-how) and thought have parted company for good, then we would indeed become the helpless slaves, not so much of our machines as of our know-how, thoughtless creatures at the mercy of every gadget which is technically possible, no matter how murderous it is."
When human life, human action, and our humanly created world are no longer expressible in a human language, then thinking--which Arendt imagines as a dialogue with oneself that must take place in language--is also threatened. It is this endangered relation between thought and action that Mr. Jones has found so provocative, and which he himself explored in his 1976 work, Floating the Tongue.
While Mr. Jones choreographed Floating the Tongue before reading Arendt, he tells me in this discussion that he has come to see the questions he was exploring--the possible expression of thought in action and of action in thought--to be similar to those Arendt raises in her unfinished last book, The Life of the Mind.
You can Watch Leah Cox dance Floating the Tongue here.
You can watch the discussion here.
And the Q&A that followed, here.
Director and choreographer BILL T. JONES is the co-founder and artistic director of the Bill T. Jones/Arnie Zane Dance Company. He is a two-time Tony Award winner and MacArthur "Genius." He and his company are resident artists at Bard, engaged in a unique teaching partnership with the College’s Dance Program. Bill T. Jones joined us here just a few days before he traveled to Washington, DC to receive Kennedy Center Honors alongside Oprah Winfrey, Merle Haggard, Paul McCartney and Jerry Herman. He was recently inducted in to France’s Order of Arts & Letters. His musical FELA! is playing on Broadway and recently opened at the National Theater in London to much acclaim.
Associate Professor of Political Studies and Human Rights ROGER BERKOWITZ is the Academic Director of Hannah Arendt Center for Ethical and Political Thinking. As an interdisciplinary scholar, teacher, and writer, Roger guides the Center’s mission to foster thinking about problems and crises that reflect the insight and independence that Hannah Arendt brought to bear on political and ethical themes.